


no other word makes my mouth as tender as your name

by aryasbitch



Series: but you're a king and i'm a lion-heart [7]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Childbirth, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, King Tommen Baratheon, King and Queen of Westeros, Married Tommen Baratheon/Arya Stark, Pregnancy, Pregnant Sex, Queen Arya Stark, Smut, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:15:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24882904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aryasbitch/pseuds/aryasbitch
Summary: Eight hours in, and the pain has only grown worse, but the baby seems to be no closer to coming out. Tommen has tried to soothe her troubles with kisses and a gentle hand along her back, which makes her both want to cry at his tenderness and stab him.She pushes him back as another wave hits her, and she leans over, groaning.
Relationships: Myrcella Baratheon & Arya Stark, Myrcella Baratheon/Tyene Sand, Sansa Stark/Margaery Tyrell (mentioned), Tommen Baratheon/Arya Stark
Series: but you're a king and i'm a lion-heart [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1749847
Comments: 4
Kudos: 49





	no other word makes my mouth as tender as your name

As Arya’s stomach grows in size, so does her discomfort.

Seven months of pregnancy is much worse than two, even though the morning sickness had diminished by the time she was three months along. The sickness had been traded in for being completely useless, instead.

Her stomach is so large she’s forced to spend an annoying amount of time off her feet, and sparring has been banned, albeit silently.

Tommen’s fretting is both sweet and infuriating.

Most days she’ll wake to find him with a hand on her stomach, telling the babe about his previous day or about how brave and incredible its mother is, which never fails to make Arya smile. 

He seems to be constantly near her, trying to respect her need for space but also wanting to always have a hand on her back. The people in the Red Keep act similarly, always trying to touch her bulging stomach and congratulating her on the child.

Up until she had pulled a knife on Maester Pycelle, that is.

After that, everyone seemed rather content with allowing Arya her space.

Besides Tommen, Arya really only allows Ayana to touch her. Ayana is always open to giving Arya a hug or allowing her to rant after a long day. Tommen, of course, never minds her complaints either. It’s usually something about her breasts hurting, or how big the babe feels inside of her.

He doesn't mind helping her with her issues either, especially the former. 

Their time in bed is always interesting now that Arya is with child. She’s usually on top, due to Tommen’s fear of crushing the babe, not that either of them mind the position. Tommen’s eyes always light up when they land on her stomach, which is in clear view when she’s seated with leg legs on either side of him. 

Arya finds herself wanting his touch more often than not, which she knows is a part of pregnancy. An old woman from Fleas Bottom had told her as much when she and Tommen had visited the people for the first time since announcing the pregnancy.

Tommen had blushed scarlet, as she loudly proclaimed the desire for fucking would increase tenfold, but would not harm the child in any way. Arya had cackled then, but she’s not laughing now.

She’s flat on her back on the bed, nightgown pulled up to expose her cunt. Tommen’s lips are connected to hers but he has two fingers curling inside of her, and she’s come twice already in the last twenty minutes.

His fingers curl up, pressing against a spot inside of her that never fails to make her see white, and she peaks once more, breaking from her husband's lips to cry out. 

Tommen grins and presses light kisses against her jaw, trailing down to her neck to leave a mark with his teeth. She whines as his teeth release her skin, smoothing the mark with his tongue. He pulls back and helps her sit up as she adjusts her clothes.

“I’ve never seen you this high strung, love.” Arya rolls her eyes even as she smiles, pride clear in his voice at getting her off thrice.

“It’s because of your babe, idiot.” His eyes light up, as they always do when she refers to their child. Not that she can blame him; her smile has softened as well, and her hand rubs against the curve of her stomach.

A knock at the door makes her turn, and Arya looks to see Ayana entering. She politely ignores the sight of them, flushed and panting, and hands Tommen a letter.

“A letter from your sister, Your Grace.”

They both perk up at that. Myrcella had written to Tommen while Arya had been away dealing with the Frey’s, and is set to arrive in King's Landing in the next week or two.

Tommen murmurs his thanks as he breaks the seal, and Arya smiles as Ayana leaves. She raises her eyebrow at Arya as she exits, indicating their state of arousal, and Arya mock glares at her as she closes the door behind her.

Tommen gives her the letter the second he’s done reading, and Arya skims quickly.

_Dear Tommen and Arya,_

_Hello, loves. By the time you receive this, I will have left Dorne, but I wanted to write one last time before arriving. I look forward to seeing you both, as is Tyene. I’d like to congratulate the pair of you again as well for your pregnancy. I’ve heard that you're a few months along, although I am unaware of the exact number of months, my apologies. When you wrote to me a few moons prior you didn’t specify. I do hope the child is a girl, and if she is in fact female, you must name her Myrcella, or else I shall be unable to return to King's Landing._

_Anyhow, I know with the pregnancy Arya will be unable to spar with Tyene, which I’m sure saddens you as much as it does my betrothed. Nevertheless, we shall have to visit again sometime when you are able to spar with her. I must go now, I apologize for the short length of this. I shall see you both soon._

_All my love,_

_Myrcella_

Arya turns to Tommen with a grin once she’s finished.

“She should be here soon then, no?” Arya questions.

“Yes, perhaps in the next day or two.” Tommen nods, bringing an arm around Arya. She tucks herself into her side, a smile playing at her lips.

“So, should we name the child Myrcella?” Tommen laughs aloud.

“I’m sure we’ll have to, or else my sister will surely stab us.” Arya snickers at his words, pressing closer to him. He brings his fingers to her hair, brushing through the dark strands.

“What do you suppose it is then? A girl?” Arya leans back, tilting her head in consideration.

“I think so, but I wouldn’t mind a boy. A little Tommen running around.” Arya would love it really, a little boy with blonde hair running through the castle, wooden sword in hand, and dirt covering him. A direwolf pup by his side.

Arya looks at Nymeria lounging in the corner. Her stomach is just as large as Arya’s, and she’ll most likely give birth any day now. Arya’s looking forward to caring for newborn pups. It’ll give her something to do. 

“I wouldn’t mind a little Arya.” She turns back to Tommen. There's a playful smile on his lips as he looks down at her, clearly picturing it. “One as loud and brave as you were as a child.”

“You didn’t even know me as a child.” Arya raises a brow.

“I knew you at four-and-ten. I can imagine how annoying you were as a child.” Tommen throws his head back in a laugh as her mouth drops, moving to hit him on the arm.

Through her giggles, she questions, “What name would you like, girl or boy?”

“Myrcella, perhaps.” They both laugh once more. “I don’t know, really. Visenya? Eddard?”

Arya nods at the suggestions. “I like both, but neither seems perfect.” 

“That’s alright. We still have time.” Arya smiles and leans up to kiss him once more.

-

Nymeria gives birth the following day.

There isn’t much Arya can do to help, knowing nothing about animal labor, but she still sits with Nymeria as she pants and whines. Tommen has more knowledge than her, having watched over his cat’s labor a few months prior, and helps clean off the pups as they come out. 

In the end, there are four pups. Two are black, and one is white. The last pup is the same coloring as Nymeria, a mix of white and grey fur. All four whine as Nymeria licks the four pups, and Arya has to resist cooing at them.

Tommen doesn’t resist the urge and rubs a tentative finger along one’s back. Nymeria leans over and licks his hand as he does so, before leaning back again. Arya and Tommen lock eyes, both grinning with glee.

One of the pups waddles over the Arya with shut eyes, bumping into her stomach before Arya picks up the wolf and cradles it to her chest. Tommen’s expression is incredibly soft as he watches her, and the pup closes its tiny jaw around one of her fingers.

Arya giggles as the pup bites down, gnawing gently. Arya pulls her finger away eventually and places the pup back against Nymeria’s stomach, and the pup immediately latches onto one of its mother’s nipples to suckle.

It brings Arya a tremendous amount of comfort to know her children will each have a direwolf, no matter how old the wolf will be by the time they are born.

-

Myrcella and Tyene arrive a week later. Tommen and Arya stand next to each other at the bottom of the steps of the Red Keep, Nymeria by their side. Her pups are yipping and falling over each other, barely able to walk with their young age.

Myrcella and Tyene step off of their horses together, their guards lining up behind them. Oberyn and Ellaria Martell had remained in Dorne, but Tyene’s younger sisters Sarella and Elia had come as well. The three youngest of the Martell sisters, Obella, Dorea, and Loreza had remained in Dorne alongside their parents.

The four girls walk with grace and poise, but Arya can see Myrcella’s barely contained glee. As she nears, the blonde drops to a courtesy in front of them. 

“Your Grace.” She turns to Arya. “My queen.”

She embraces Tommen first as he shakes his head in exasperation at the titles, launching herself into her brother’s arms. She hugs Arya next, though the embrace is a bit more awkward due to Arya’s stomach.

Myrcella pulls back with a grin, one hand cupping Arya’s stomach, which she would hate if it was almost anyone else. But this is Myrcella.

“Seven and a half,” Arya answers her silent question, and Myrcella grins once more.

“And have you decided on a name?” The blonde raises a brow, and they both know she’s only joking.

“Not yet, but we still have time.” Tommen answers for Arya.

Tyene approaches next, and Arya is instantly struck at how beautiful the girl is. She’s tan from the Dornish sun, and her hair is dark and thick and falls to her breasts. Her dress is bright blue, and Myrcella’s is light pink. The fabric looks incredibly light, which Arya will have to ask them about.

It’s too damned hot this far South.

Tyene’s smile is genuine, which Arya is glad for. She matches it, and they embrace comfortably before pulling back.

“Your Grace.” Tyene nods at her.

“Lady Tyene. I’m so glad to meet you, finally.”

Tyene smiles at her. “I agree, it’s nice to finally meet you. However, I prefer just Tyene, Your Grace.”

Arya’s grin grows. “Perfect. I prefer just Arya, if we’re being honest.” 

Tyene nods at her, the light in her eyes brighter than before. Her younger sisters are just as kind and interesting. Sarella is six and ten, and courtesies seem to fall uncomfortably from her tongue, which makes Arya think they’ll get along well. Elia is the quietest of the three at four and ten, and reminds her of Myrcella. 

All four of them delight over the direwolves, though they only dip down to brush their fingers along their fur when they stray from Nymeria’s side, stumbling over to the girls in excitement. Nymeria remains seated, uninterested in anyone else touching her. 

She doesn’t growl, but the Martells seem to understand she doesn’t want to be approached. She does allow Myrcella to rub the top of her head before she prowls to Arya’s side, stretching and yawning as she sits down next to her. 

The sight of her teeth makes Sarella flinch, but Elia smiles at the sight. Arya notices and raises a brow at her lack of cowering, which makes the younger girl blush. 

The group makes their way back inside the Red Keep after a few more minutes of conversing, and they disperse as they arrive in the Great Hall. Sarella and Elia move outside, hoping to visit the gardens, and Tyene and Myrcella stay with Tommen and Arya to discuss their wedding.

Myrcella had expressed her wish to wed in King’s Landing so her brother and Arya could attend, and Tyene doesn't seem to mind marrying somewhere other than Dorne. If she does, she hides it well, but she seems entirely unbothered as they discuss the details of the wedding.

-

Arya approaches Tyene the next morning. She and Sarella are sparring, but she steps back and allows Elia to take her place as Arya approaches.

“Your Grace.”

“Arya.” Arya corrects. Tyene dips her head in acknowledgment and sits beside Arya.

“You are the next ruler of Dorne, thanks to Dornish Inheritance Law.” Tyene doesn’t seem surprised that Arya has brought up the topic of inheritance, though her gaze does flit to Arya’s stomach. “However, Westeros does not have the same laws as Dorne. I’d like to change that.”

Tyene smiles, clearly pleased. “Fair enough. I’m sure you’d like your child to inherit the throne, boy or girl.”

Arya dips her head in agreement. “You are correct. It doesn't seem fair for my child to be tossed aside should she have a cunt.”

Tyene barks a laugh at her choice of words, seemingly surprised at her foul language. 

“I wholeheartedly agree. How can I help?” Arya grins.

-

She approaches Tommen with the topic the next day. They had discussed the issues of implementing Dornish Inheritance Law the moment he learned she was pregnant because Arya wouldn’t have agreed to marry him if he was someone who wouldn't agree.

But he had agreed completely that their child should be allowed to inherit whether or not the child was a male.

Arya and Tyene had had a lengthy discussion on the law and how to implement it in the Seven Kingdoms the day prior, and so when she approaches her husband she is set on the law being implemented as soon as possible.

Tommen agrees as soon as she mentions it, especially now that she's several months along in her pregnancy. Neither wants their child to be born with the possibility of them not benign seen as an heir. If their child is a boy, the kingdom will see implementing the law as pointless, and if they have a girl neither want the child to be alive for a second where they aren’t seen as the next ruler of Westeros.

Considering they are the King and Queen, there is no one who can speak against them, but they know they have support anyhow. 

Dorne already has the law, not to mention Myrcella and Tyene being the next rulers. 

The North will support them, as Arya already knows all of her siblings will. With Sansa and Margaery ruling the North, there’s no possible way they won't have its support. Any of her brothers would surely support them as well.

The Iron Island will surely support them, with Asha Greyjoy being the Lady of the islands. 

Shireen Baratheon, Tommen and Myrcella’s cousin, controls the Stormlands and had already proclaimed she would support the law. They had conversed about the topic when word spread of Arya being pregnant, and despite Arya never having met the girl, she knows she is a kind and just ruler.

The Reach will support the law with Margaery’s approval of it, as well as with Olenna Tyrell leading the area.

The only regions left are the Vale and the Riverlands. The Vale, run by Arya’s cousin Robyn, might not support the law, but there isn't anything he can do against the rest of the kingdom to stop the law. The Riverlands are ruled by Arya’s uncle Edmure and his wife Rosilyn, but Arya suspects they’ll support the law if Arya asks them to.

That covers all the major regions of Westeros, and individual lords or men who don’t agree with women being able to inherit have nothing against the rest of the collective Kingdom.

Arya and Tommen’s realization that their law will be implemented without much fight sends thrills of joy through both of them. However, they write up the law and finalize it in a manner that is completely anticlimactic. 

There are no fireworks that go off, no celebrations or cheers.

They make up for it instead in bed, ravishing each other for hours. Each time they look at her stomach they realize their child will take the Iron Throne no matter what, it sets off a new round of arousal and fucking.

-

Myrcella and Tyene’s wedding occurs after a month of them being in King’s Landing. Arya, Ayana, and several other handmaidens help Myrcella get ready while Tyene’s sisters help her in a separate room. 

Myrcella’s dress is white, but there is a layer of red silk on top, showcasing her being a Lannister. The fabric falls to the floor around her. The top layer of her curls are pinned behind her head, the bottom half remaining down to trail across her shoulders.

All in all, she looks beautiful.

Tyene looks no less radiant. She walks down the aisle with one of her sisters on each side. Her dress is a mix of silk in lace in typical Dorne colors of orange and red. Her hair has been pinned up in a fashion that looks more Northern, the top layers plaited back in a way that reminds Arya of Sansa. 

Myrcella walks down next with Tommen. Her grin is as large as Arya’s was when she had married Tommen, and it makes her smile and presses a hand against her stomach.

Tommen moves next to Arya in the front row after handing off Arya to Myrcella. They meet each other's eyes and smile before turning back to look at the brides.

Arya is sure she and Tommen clap the loudest as they kiss after their vows.

-

The following celebration is no less joyous than Arya and Tommen’s own wedding. 

Tommen twirls her across the dancefloor, careful of her stomach. Several other couples dance alongside them, as well as Myrcella and Tyene, who take turns between twirling and meeting in the middle to exchange soft kisses.

Tommen notices her growing tiredness after a few more twirls.

“Should we sit?” Tommen is full of concern, but Arya only gives him a calming smile.

“No, it’s alright.” He gives her a knowing look, and she gives in. “Alright, fine.”

Tommen leads her to the head table, and he pulls her down to the seat beside him. She curves into his side almost immediately, finding his hand on his lap and twining their fingers together.

They spend the rest of the wedding with Tommen stroking her stomach, and the two watching the celebration.

Myrcella and Tyene remain smiling the entire time.

-

Arya’s last month of pregnancy is utter hell. She’s so large she’s forced to spend the entire time in bed, switching between twirling her dagger and reading. Myrcella finds her one day once again reading the history of the Targaryen’s.

“How are you feeling?” Ayra looks up as Myrcella sits on the bed. One of Nymeria’s pups, a male one with black fur that Arya has named Balerion, immediately swarms her, nipping at her fingers. 

The other black direwolf, a female Tommen named Rhaella, rolls over onto her back. She bumps into Arya’s back as she does so, and Arya moves to rub her stomach, the pup yipping as she does so.

“Bored.” Arya huffs. “I’ve been stuck in bed all week with nothing to do.”

Myrcella smiles in sympathy. “I’m sorry. I wish I could help.”

“Well, you could tell me about Dorne, or Tyene. I’ve barely been able to speak with her due to this damn babe.” Myrcella laughs.

“What would you like to know?”

“Everything. The heat of Dorne, how you met Tyene, her other sisters. Anything.” She’s so bored she would even consider sewing at this point, though she would refuse if anyone supplied her with a sewing needle.

“The sun beats down on you at all times. You’d hate it, I’m sure, but I quite enjoy it.” Myrcella continues to play with Balerion, “Prince Oberyn and Ellaria are kind, and remind me of you.”

“When have you ever known me to be kind?” Arya jokes.

Myrcella only sets her with a look, “You can’t fool me, Arya. You may try to hide it, but I know you’re kind.”

Arya flushes, looking down to hide her smile.

“I met Tyene nearly the moment I set foot in Dorne. We both knew we were set to be married, but neither of us knew how to act around each other. Eventually, we sat down and talked and it didn’t take long before we spent every moment together.

“We fell in love quickly, really. We’re both rather lucky on that matter, I suppose. How many marriages are really out of love anymore?”

Arya smiles and looks down at her stomach.

“I don’t know. I used to say none of them were but look at us all now. You and Tyene, me and Tommen. Sansa and Margaery.” Myrcella hums in agreement.

“Your brother Robb and Talisa, too.” Arya blinks at her words and her face falls. Regret immediately crosses Myrcella’s face. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean-.”

Arya waves her off, even as her heart clenches. “No, it’s alright.”

There’s a pause before Myrcella speaks again.

“Is… Is it true? About what they say about what you did to house Frey?”

“Depends. What do they say?”

Myrcella pauses once more to collect her thoughts. The pup whines and nips at her fingers. “I’ve heard you poisoned them, that you set Nymeria on them. I’ve even heard you stabbed every single Frey man.”

Arya hums, “I poisoned them. Watched them all choke on it and slit Walder Frey’s throat.

Arya looks up to gauge her reaction, but Myrcella doesn't look upset in the slightest.

“Was it painful for them?”

Arya nods once.

“Good.” Arya blinks at her in shock. Myrcella sighs, having seen her puzzled expression. “They hurt your family. They deserved to suffer. I’d never think less of you for what you did to them, even if you had cut up each one and eaten them. You’re my sister, I love you.”

Arya has to blink back tears at her words, and Myrcella immediately pulls her into an embrace. Arya cries softly into her shoulder, pulling back eventually to wipe away the last of her tears. She mutters a quiet thank you, and Myrcella squeezes her hand.

-

“Fuck.” The pains have been coursing through her for five hours now. She’s pacing around the birthing chamber, Tommen standing across the room and watching with concern. “Fuck, fuck.”

“Are you alright?”

“No, I’m not alright! Your fucking baby is maiming me!” She doesn’t mean to shout, but it feels as if she’s been stabbed about a thousand times at this point. 

Tommen, bless him, doesn’t look hurt in the slightest, only murmurs an apology. Arya leans back against a wall as another wave of pain hits her, and the midwife leans closer to inspect her.

“Could be another few hours, Your Grace.”

Arya sighs, preparing for more pain.

-

Eight hours in, and the pain has only grown worse, but the baby seems to be no closer to coming out. Tommen has tried to soothe her troubles with kisses and a gentle hand along her back, which makes her both want to cry at his tenderness and stab him.

She pushes him back as another wave hits her, and she leans over, groaning.

-

“I think it’s time.”

It’s been twelve hours, and Arya’s words make Tommen stare at her in shock. The midwives hurry towards her, because they know no one knows her body better than she does. If Arya says its time, it’s time.

They lay her back against the birthing bed, and she spreads her legs to make room for the oncoming child.

There are beads of sweat along her forehead, and she squeezes Tommen’s hand as hard as she can. She already knows he’ll have bruises the following morning.

“It’s time.” The midwife says, leaning between Arya’s legs. “Push.”

-

Arya can barely pay attention through the pain. She feels as if she is half drunk, dizzy and woozy, but the pain is sharp as a knife against her. It seems hours pass before the head of her child even pokes out, and it very may well as have been that long.

“Keep pushing, the head is nearly out.”

She continues to push and scream, gripping Tommen harder. She can barely hear him whispering in her ear, praising her and telling her to keep going.

“You’re doing so well, love, c’mon. Keep going, Arya.” She pauses to pant, sobbing out at the pain.

Arya pushes again, and she hears the midwife tell her the head is fully out. The rest of the body is only slightly less painful to push out but seems to last just as long. Finally, she is able to fall back against the bed as a cry pierces the air.

“It’s a girl, Your Grace.” Arya smiles through her sobs, and they turn to laughs even as she continues to cry. Her entire face is covered in a mixture of tears and sweat, and her front is covered with the latter. Tommen is laughing beside her, and they both look at the bundle in the midwife’s arms.

The babe is small and pink, covered in guts and blood. She looks terrible and wrinkled. Arya loves her more than anything.

“She looks disgusting.” Tommen laughs as he speaks, and his forehead is covered in sweat as well. “She’s perfect.”

Arya nods slowly, too exhausted to react further.

“Your Grace.” Arya looks up, a lazy smile on her face. “There's another babe coming.”

What.

Arya thinks she's spoken aloud, because one of the midwives gives her a nervous smile. She pulls up her legs anyways, tears returning in her eyes as she realizes she isn't done with the pain of labor.

Tommen looks as shocked as she feels, eyes wide and jaw dropped. He leans towards her with their first child in his arms, the bundle free of any blood now. The midwife must have cleaned her.

The second labor is worse than the first, because the first babe is screaming in Tommen’s arms and she’s exhausted and Arya thinks she might have passed out at one point. She’s sobbing by the time the second child is fully out of her body, but they quiet to silent cries because she feels too weak to even make noise.

She hears the cries of the second child, and the midwife proclaims it's another girl, but she can't hear very well either. It feels as if they are a thousand miles away. Her head is spinning, and her heart was racing a moment ago, but now it feels as if it's slowed, as if she's grown sluggish.

Arya wants to reach out a hand, to hold one of her daughters, but she can't seem to move. Faces swarm her vision, and she thinks one is blonde, but everything goes dark.

-

Everything had been fine. Arya had given Tommen a daughter, and then suddenly it was revealed there were two. 

_Two_ daughters. 

It seems too good to be true. He isn't able to hold both of his children at the same time, too worried he’d drop one, so he turns to his wife to hand her his bundle in exchange for the other, which is still in the midwife's arms.

When he turns to her, her face is stark white. It looks as if all the blood has left her face, and is now trailing out of her legs in a sea of red. 

Tommen rushes to the door, the handmaiden with his other daughter behind him, and opens the door as quickly as he can. Myrcella is pacing outside with Tyene, the two younger Martell’s a few feet away and sitting. 

He hands his bundle to Myrcella, then turns to reach for the other and gives her to Tyene. Both grip their bundles firmly, even as horror covers their faces as they realize something is wrong.

“Watch over them. Keep them safe.” He can barely get out his words through his sobs before he runs back to Arya’s side, door slamming behind him. 

She’s still bleeding, and the midwife between her legs is hastily trying to stop the flow of blood. Tommen kneels over her, pressing her to his chest.

“Please, please. Please, Arya. Just wake up.” His tears keep dripping onto her face and shoulders, but he can’t stop trying. He attempts to control his breathing, but it races no matter what he tries.

Finally, _finally_ , the midwife leans back, proclaiming she’ll be alright. Tommen sobs in relief, pulling his wife closer to him.

-

Arya wakes the following day. She blinks awake slowly, but bolts up as soon she remembers her children. Tommen is asleep in bed next to her but wakes as she moves.

He looks dazed until his eyes land on her. They widen, then, and he scrambles to pull her into a hug. Arya practically collapses into his arms, and he leans back to press desperate kisses to her lips, her cheeks, her forehead, anywhere he can reach.

She pulls back after a moment, gazing wild as it meets him.

“Where are my children?”

-

Myrcella and Tyene had been watching them, and place one child in her arms, the other in Tommen’s. They both pull her into a quick hug, and she can tell they want to say more, but they leave to give them privacy.

Arya looks down at the girl, green eyes staring up at her blankly. The girl has a tuft of dark hair and grasps onto one of Arya’s fingers with her entire fist. Tears well in Arya’s eyes, streaming down her face as the babe nuzzles into her chest. Beside her, the child in Tommen’s arms has Stark grey eyes and Lannister blonde hair, the complete opposite of the one in Arya’s.

“I thought you were going to die.” Arya looks at Tommen with teary eyes, and she sees that his are just as full of tears. His voice breaks as he speaks. 

“I’m sorry.” She doesn’t know why she’s apologizing. They both know it isn’t her fault, but Arya hates that he’s crying because she got hurt. The thought of leaving him and their children alone brings more tears to her eyes, and they spill steadily.

Tommen presses his forehead to hers, both crying.

They’re forced to pull back as the girl in Tommen’s arms cries out, and the two switch bundles. Arya brings the blonde girl to her breast, where she immediately latches onto her breast. Arya brushes a gentle finger to the girl's cheek as she feeds, feeling how soft her skin is.

Tommen continues to look at her as their babe feeds, rather than their child herself.

“I’m alright, I promise.” Tommen nods, but Arya can tell he doesn't feel any better. She brings up her hand to his cheek, brushing away his tears. She leans closer to press a kiss to his lips, and he kisses back just as desperately.

It’s as if she is his oxygen, but Arya thinks she understands the feeling.

Being with Tommen is like living, as if he breathes life into her.

-

Myrcella and Tyene visit her a few hours later, Nymeria sneaking in behind them. The four of her pups spring in as well but are thankfully quiet for once. 

“Have you decided on names?” Tyene questions.

Arya nods and shows Myrcella and Tyene the blonde babe in her arms. 

“This is Lyarra Stark-Baratheon.”

Tommen shifts, showing the dark-haired, green-eyed girl in his embrace, “And this is Visenya Stark-Baratheon.”

Lyarra and Visenya. Visenya and Lyarra. 

Years down the line, Visenya will take the Iron Throne, as the Queen of Westeros. She will have a direwolf by her wide, one who is the color of snow and named Carnage.

Lyarra will become the Warden of the Winterfell, ward to Sansa and Margaery. The direwolves Balerion and Frost, the white and grey female, will go North with her.

Arya and Tommen’s next child, a girl named Adryana, will live in the Kings Landing beside her sister as Princess of the Seven Kingdoms and Hand of the Queen, with the last direwolf, Rhaella, by her side.

For now, the children’s fate is undecided. Their future roles are undecided, as is who takes the North and who takes the Iron Throne. 

For now, all that is known are the names Lyarra and Visenya.

**Author's Note:**

> this is the second to last installment in the series!! however, any special requests for another installment or a drabble in this series? I'm open to suggestions!


End file.
